


there are no words

by gyuhyun



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 16:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14241279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyuhyun/pseuds/gyuhyun
Summary: Jongin grows up watching his parents’ relationship. It grows, deepens, faces bumps in the road, but two people who love each other always find their way back.





	there are no words

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished writing this!!! And just in time for #HappySuchenDay too. I hope you will all enjoy it. FAIR WARNING, my writing style is hitting a bit of bumpy road right now. I’m stuck between second guessing all of my sentences, and then just dumping all of my thoughts anyway. If you can like this even a little, that’d be truly and honestly great. Keep loving suchen a lot! 
> 
>   **questions?** [ask.fm](ask.fm/darkyulate). [twitter](twitter.com/#!/kyuhyunaaa). [carrd](https://yukidesu.carrd.co/).

Jongin watched his papa put down a steaming mug by his appa’s hand.

“Thanks, Jongdae,” his appa said. He held his papa’s hand right as he was about to pull it away, and with Jongin’s five-year-old eyes, he saw the minute squeeze his appa gave, the same thing he would do to Jongin whenever he held his hand.

“You’re welcome, Joonmyun,” his papa whispered before he pressed his lips right at his appa’s temple.

“Papa, where’s my ppoppo?” Jongin asked, pointing to his forehead where his dads would usually kiss him. Both Joonmyun and Jongdae shared a look before chuckling. They placed a loud and wet kiss on their son’s head with Jongin laughing at their antics. He couldn’t stop smiling the whole day.

 

* * *

 

When he was seven years old, Jongin snuck out of his bedroom, creeping down the stairs past his bedtime. His stomach rumbled, and he quietly followed the smell of freshly baked cookies in the kitchen. He plastered himself to the wall just like the actors in spy movies and peeked at the kitchen through the entryway of the living room.

Soft music played in the living room from their home theater speakers. It travelled down to the kitchen where he saw Jongdae and Joonmyun wrapped up in each other’s arms. A steaming tray of cookies lay on the counter but his fathers didn’t pay it any mind as they danced to the song in the kitchen.

“Should we really be doing this in the kitchen?” Jongdae asked with a chuckle, but he made no move to stop their dancing.

“Why not? It’s our song, and the kitchen’s big enough, and Jongin’s asleep.” Joonmyun pulled back slightly to smile at his husband, eyes twinkling under the kitchen light.

Jongdae shook his head but moved his body in time with Joonmyun’s. As the song hit the chorus, Joonmyun began softly singing the lines, his voice whispering directly into Jongdae’s ears. Jongdae shuddered. He took a deep breath and began singing along, their voices blending together into a harmony that rooted Jongin into his spot.

Even when the song ended, the last dregs of its melody echoing in the room, Joonmyun and Jongdae stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, their voices keeping the song alive.

Jongin took one last look at the cookies, then his parents, and walked quietly back to his room.

 

* * *

 

Jongin sat quietly in the backseat of the car, glancing subtly at his papa at the driver’s seat and then at his appa on the passenger seat. His parents have yet to speak to each other since he’d gotten into the car fifteen minutes ago. He eased back into his chair, crossing his arms, and focused his sight on the road ahead. Just a few more minutes and they’d be home. He was old enough to know by now that his parents would never fight in front him. They hadn’t done it in the last sixteen years; they wouldn’t start now.

For now, he just needed to wait it out. But _god_ , did waiting take so long.

From his periphery, he saw Joonmyun sigh and almost as a reply, Jongdae tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Jongin clasped his hands together and looked up. He didn’t know if anyone was listening, but he muttered a short prayer hoping they’d arrive home soon.

The minute the car stopped, Jongin ran to his room and waited. By now he knew what his parents would do. They’d lock themselves in their room, and from there, they would do whatever it was they did whenever they got into a fight. Jongin never heard anything from his bedroom, but sometimes, when he was outside in the hallway, he’d hear a few bumps. He tried not to think about what they were doing then. He just hoped no one was getting hurt.

His parents would come out thirty minutes later, at the least. An hour or two at the most. But whenever they came out, his parents would only look a little ruffled, and when they saw Jongin, a smile would grace their lips.

Jongin sighed in relief when, after an hour and a half, his parents came out of their room. Joonmyun shutting their door softly.

“Hey there, kiddo,” Jongdae greeted, ruffling Jongin’s head even though Jongin was an inch taller than him.

“Hey, papa, what’s for dinner?”

“We’re thinking of ordering out tonight.” Joonmyun was the one who answered. He shot Jongin a wink before smiling at Jongdae. “How about that chicken and pizza place that your papa loves so much?”

“Yes!” Jongdae pumped his fist and began listing down his orders. Jongin chuckled to himself. If they were ordering or eating out, it usually meant the fight was Joonmyun’s fault. Jongdae would’ve cooked dinner if it was his. But Joonmyun couldn’t cook to save his life, so he’d just order whatever it was Jongdae wanted to eat.

Jongin followed after his fathers and began thinking of what to order. They never had to hold back whenever Joonmyun was paying, or at least, that’s what Jongdae taught him.

Just as he was entering the dining room, he saw Joonmyun pull Jongdae to his side and kiss him on the forehead. He didn’t have to be near to hear his papa whisper, “I’m sorry,” or the reply of “It’s okay.”

Jongin smiled to himself.

 

* * *

 

Jongin paced the bedroom of his dorm, four steps forward before circling back. He had his arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared down the floor he was walking on. Just as he was making his nth circle, a groan to his right made him pause.

“You’re giving me a headache, Jongin,” his roommate, Kyungsoo, said, his usual wide eyes turned to him in a glare. They’d been roommates for almost four years, so Jongin was no longer fazed by such looks. He sighed and took up the little space beside Kyungsoo on his bed. Kyungsoo groaned but scooted to accommodate Jongin, after all, he was much bigger than Kyungsoo was. Jongin continued to cross his arms and furrow his brow at the ceiling.

Kyungsoo sighed. “You know,” Kyungsoo paused to turn and look at Jongin. “You’re better off telling me what’s wrong instead of keeping it to yourself.”

It was Jongin’s turn to sigh. He rolled sideways to face Kyungsoo and frowned. “Hyung, I _think_ my parents are getting a divorce.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened. For a moment, Jongin was distracted by how wide they’d gotten.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Jongin rolled his eyes, earning him a sharp slap on the arm. “No, hyung, I’m not.” He turned back to face the ceiling, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

“But the last time I saw them, they were being all mushy and gross.”

“Yeah, but that was like what a year ago?” Jongin sighed and massaged his temples. “I’ve been home every weekend since then, and I don’t know. I feel like things have gotten _cold_ between my parents.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not just imagining things.”

“No, hyung, I’m serious. You should’ve been there last week. They barely talked to each other!” In his frustration, Jongin sat up and frowned down at Kyungsoo. “I was home for two whole days, and they didn’t say a _word_ to each other. It’s like they didn’t even know the other was there.”

“Maybe they were just busy? But they talked to you?” Kyungsoo mirrored Jongin’s position on the bed and put a hand to his chin.

“I thought about that too, but I don’t know. It felt like something was going on. And yeah, they talked to me, but not at the same time or together.”

Kyungsoo hummed. “Okay, what else makes you think they’re not working out? Tell me everything you’ve noticed so far.”

Jongin recounted the things he’d noticed, how his parents seemed to be doing their own things separately, new hobbies that required them to use both their offices. He noticed how his parents didn’t talk to each other when it was just the two of them but would talk over each other when Jongin was in the room. There was a time when Jongin saw his parents sitting down in the living room, doing nothing, but there was an oppressive silence that wasn’t there before.

“I don’t understand,” Jongin said after he told Kyungsoo everything he’d seen.

“Same.” Kyungsoo crossed his arms and frowned. “I mean, from what I saw, they seemed like they really loved each other.”

“Right?” Jongin fell back on Kyungsoo’s bed in his frustration. “What do I do, hyung? I go back home tomorrow. I don’t wanna go home without a plan.”

Kyungsoo laid down on the bed and mirrored Jongin’s position. “Why don’t you talk to one of them? See if your suspicions are right?”

Jongin thought about it, imagined going to either his appa or papa and shuddered. “That’s gonna be one hell of a conversation.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Maybe, but it’s better than you assuming something’s wrong when they could be just fine.”

Jongin sighed. “You didn’t see them, hyung. There was _definitely_ something going on.”

“Then maybe talk to one of your dads so you can help them solve it?” Kyungsoo shrugged (and Jongin wasn’t even sure how that was possible lying down).

“Maybe.” Jongin thought about it, he really did, but he wasn’t sure. “I’ll see first. If the feeling is still there, I’ll talk to Appa.” After a deep sigh, Jongin turned to Kyungsoo and smiled, albeit a little tiredly. “Thanks for listening, hyung.”

With no room to complain, Kyungsoo allowed himself to be embraced by Jongin who seemed like he really needed it anyway. Kyungsoo tried to repress a smile, but the small curves of his lips betrayed him.

“You’re welcome, Jonginnie.”

 

* * *

 

Jongin waited for his parents outside of his dorm, a duffel bag hanging over one shoulder and his backpack hanging off his free hand. His appa’s car stopped in front of him, and Joonmyun alighted the car with a wide smile on his face. Jongin smiled and looked at the passenger side waiting for Jongdae to come out. But no one came.

“Hey, kiddo!” Joonmyun wrapped his arms around Jongin, and even though he outgrew Joonmyun a few years ago, it never stopped Joonmyun from trying to reach for his shoulders whenever they hugged. “Let’s get you home?”

“Yeah,” Jongin replied, albeit a little distractedly. He kept glancing at the empty passenger seat as he put his things in the trunk. He was so distracted that he barely paid attention to what Joonmyun was saying right beside him. “I’m sorry, what?”

Joonmyun clicked his tongue, but the smile on his face told Jongin he wasn’t really angry. “I said, let’s hurry it up because your papa cooked dinner and we don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Jongin nodded. He supposed that was Joonmyun’s way of explaining why Jongdae wasn’t with him but it was barely 4 in the afternoon. Jongdae didn’t start cooking until 5 if the meal took too long to prepare or 6 if it was easy to make. He bit his lip and uneasily occupied the passenger seat. He’d sat there before, but with his worries about his parents, he couldn’t feel calm about taking Jongdae’s place.

He took a deep breath and tried to think. His parents usually picked him up together. Even when he thought they were going through a rough patch, they went to his university _together_. The more he thought about it, the longer the silence stretched on between him and Joonmyun. It made him wonder if this was preferable to the silent atmosphere between his parents. The thought made him shudder and shake his head. He didn’t like both. At all.

“You okay, Jongin?” Joonmyun asked, eyes never leaving the road. Jongin turned to look at him and saw the small bit of worry in his eyes.

“I’m—” Jongin stopped. It was now or never. If he spoke now, maybe he could get to the bottom of this. “Are you and papa getting a divorce?”

“What?” A red light had flashed in the middle of the street, and with the shock of the question, Joonmyun stepped on the break too harshly, causing both him and Jongin to burst forward. Jongin sighed in relief when their seatbelts caught them in time.

“Sorry, sorry,” Joonmyun said, making sure Jongin was okay and then himself.

“It’s okay. I’m fine, Appa.” After a beat, he said, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Joonmyun turned one look at the red light, and then at Jongin. A number of expressions crossed his face before settling on determination. He took a deep breath and looked Jongin in the eyes.

“First of all, your papa and I are definitely not getting a divorce.” It seemed that letting the words go required more strength and effort than Joonmyun thought. After the last syllable left his lips, resignation replaced the determined look in his eyes, and he sighed, falling back onto his seat. “It’s just, we’re going through something right now.”

“What are you going through, Appa?” Jongin couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice. He was so afraid now. The reality was harder to accept than he’d thought.

Joonmyun glanced at Jongin, saw what Jongin assumed to be a frightened look on his face, and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Jongin, relax. It’s not what you’re thinking.” 

Jongin resisted the urge not to huff. He took a deep breath and sighed. “But Appa, I’ve been sensing that there’s something wrong between the two of you for a while now. You can’t just tell me it’s not _what I’m thinking_ because at this point, I don’t even know what _I’m_ thinking.” He didn’t bother hiding his frustration towards the end, but the anxiety that he’d been keeping inside threatened to bubble over. Curling his fists, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Jongin,” Joonmyun said, his tone soft and placating. He’d stopped the car at the highway’s emergency lane, turning off the engine. After a long, deep sigh, he turned to Jongin with a smile that looked more like a grimace than reassurance. “Alright, I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

Jongin nodded and waited for his father to begin speaking.

“Your father and I, we haven’t, how do I say this? Uhm.” Joonmyun cleared his throat. “Uh, since you started college, it’s been hard for us to connect? I think. It’s like, I love your father, but while you were growing up, all of our attention was on you, and now that you’re gone most of the time, we started putting attention on other things like ourselves and hobbies.” Joonmyun paused, looking out into the window. “I guess we just focused too much on ourselves that we kinda forgot about each other.” He shook his head. “And recently, it’s, we’ve been trying but something gets in the way, like work, or other obligations. It’s led to some pretty petty arguments, and yeah, I’m sorry we worried you, but there’s nothing much to worry about. We just need to find our rhythm again.”

Joonmyun patted Jongin on the shoulder, but it didn’t really give Jongin the comfort his father was trying to convey. Jongin took a deep breath and sighed. At least his parents weren’t divorcing and had no plans to. But how do two people who still love each other find their _rhythm_ , or whatever that was? He thought about all those times his parents always seemed to click, how they naturally gravitated to each other when they were in a room. Maybe they just needed some kind of spark, he thought to himself.

“How about I help you, Appa?” he said brightly, a lightbulb lighting up in his head.

Joonmyun took one look at him, with his eyebrows screwed together, and saw the sincerity in Jongin’s eyes. “Okay,” he replied with a smile. “Why not?”

Jongin knew just what to do to help his parents out. On the way home, he’d encouraged Joonmyun to buy Jongdae’s favorite cupcakes, “to surprise him.”

“You should court him again, Appa,” Jongin said, his smile wide and rubbing his hands together. He was practically bouncing in his heels while he talked to Joonmyun in the bakery. “Make him fall in love with you again.”

Joonmyun hummed and dutifully bought the cupcakes. And even though it was a little cliche, Joonmyun added a bouquet of flowers without Jongin having to tell him to. Joonmyun felt a little silly to be doing all these things, but when he had the box of cupcakes in his hand and the bouquet in the other, he thought that maybe Jongin was on to something.

When they arrived home that night, Joonmyun surprised Jongdae in the kitchen, his hands full with gifts. The way Jongdae’s eyes lit up had been something else that day. It twinkled with the fluorescent light of the kitchen. His lips curled even more at the corners, if that was even possible. And most endearing of all, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were even more prominent than before. They might’ve been signs of age, but to Joonmyun every line was mark of the years they’d spent with each other.

“What’s all this for?” Jongdae asked, reaching for the flowers first. He leaned in and inhaled the scent. With his bent head, Joonmyun felt just a little taller.

“Nothing. I just wanted to surprise you.” Joonmyun placed the cupcakes on the kitchen counter and kissed the top of Jongdae’s head, right where the swirl of his hair was. He could feel rather than feel the tremors of Jongdae’s laughter.

“I’m definitely surprised,” Jongdae whispered. “But a good surprise. Thanks.” When Jongdae looked up, Joonmyun smiled and leaned in, planting a soft kiss on those lips. It felt different from all their kisses before. Before, everything had been routine, morning kiss, welcome home kiss, goodnight kiss, but now it was just a kiss because _god, I still love you, so much_.

Jongdae’s smile was the first thing to greet him when they pulled away. His cheeks were stained pink, and Joonmyun felt his own growing hotter. When their eyes met, they didn’t need any words.

Jongin watched from the kitchen door, nodded to himself and walked back to the dining room. His parents were going to be fine. They just needed a little nudge, he thought to himself.

 

* * *

 

Jongin never heard his parents say those three words to each other, but whenever he looked at them, saw the way their eyes glinted as it met, saw the little pull of their lips at the corners, he didn’t need to hear it to see it.

_It was love._


End file.
